Desolation
by HollywoodGirl15
Summary: James losing his swagger leaves more of a mental wreck than anyone truly knows. In the end will he give it all up for a stranger or go back to the same conceited James that nearly ruined the band?


**Disclaimer: **Nothing is owned, and most places/charactizations/ect. are based off of the Nick show Big Time Rush.

**Author's Note:** So this is my first time doing a Big Time Rush fic, and comments are greatly needed :) If it's good enough, I want to make it into a series, so every comment helps!

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><p>Swagger.<p>

That was the one thing that had become his, that had been inside his grips since the change that puberty brought with it. Lying in the palm of his hands, a glowing ball of determination that had changed him, warped his mind and his soul, and allowed him to become who he had always wanted to be. Male modeling, being in a band, it all came with puberty and the so call term of 'swagger' that he had grown to feel as if he had patent pended himself. Nobody could touch it; it was his to hold, his to do with as he pleased, allowing it to either warm his soul or bring him to his knees. It was a dream in the palm of his hands, a genie granting him his one wish that he had craved so desperately as their scowling eyes had turned themselves away.

But now it had dwindled down, and he was left with absolutely nothing. Whether or not it was psychological, he didn't care; what made sense was that Logan was now the star, now the swagger king while he was left in the dust, the same reject that he had once been. Hair untidy and clothing baggy, he sat alone in the apartment, hearing the excited shouts of a warm day from behind the closed wooden door. But his body wouldn't move; it was permanently etched into the seat next to the abandoned computer, closed and password locked as his head swam with thoughts that hadn't swirled in years. They now punched, kicked, and clawed their way to the front of his mind, hissing their delighted fangs at him as they spit their verbal venom.

James wasn't completely sure when swagger had become his blood, his calling as every movement just seemed natural. It just occurred one day without his permission, the puberty finally completing his transformation as girls suddenly began to flock, guys began to glare, and teachers began to stare. It had been his biggest insecurity for a brief moment until he embraced it and made it his. There was a new world order underneath his feet, and suddenly he was the leader, thrust into his throne. But he had never minded it; it was all he wanted in terms of popularity. He went from being a school nerd to a talented pretty boy within a few short months, and with it came confusion, acceptance, until he finally gave in fully.

Without it, he almost wasn't James; there was nothing but the exterior shell that it had left in its wake and the oncoming destruction that was his mentality.

Frowning more to himself and kicking a stray copy of Rolling Stone to the floor, he crossed his arms tightly against his chest, watching as the blank television set provided no distraction. The empty black screen almost seemed to taunt him, the reflection of the pool below hidden somewhere in it and coming forth to be more prominent. Scowling more and adjusting in his sweats and shirt, he glanced away. Frustration bubbled up like a volcano in his chest, choking him out momentarily as he pushed himself up. Vertigo nearly pushed him straight back down, but James managed to stay upright, giving one more nasty glare at the mocking object before heading towards the designated bedroom.

Leaving the shades drawn and the small space in total blackness, he only paused momentarily to feel out the familiar shape of his bed. Faintly someone screamed from far below, then the sound of splashing water followed it as the scowl set in even deeper. No breeze flooded through the open windows of the apartment, and he forced himself over to the wall to search out the switch for the fan. Assumptions were assumed correct when a breeze ruffled his already unkempt hair, and with a miniscule smile of satisfaction, James was sinking into the familiar contoured embrace.

Pulling in air until his chest was sure to burst, he slowly let it out, watching in the darkness as his chest rapidly deflated. More happy noises could be heard from the windows out in the main room, and his palms pressed themselves hard against his eyes. They put more and more pressure on until he was seeing colorful popping circles despite the immense blackness, and only when they felt as if they were about to rupture did he pull away. Trying to set a soothing rhythm, he counted how many seconds it took to inhale, then equally exhaled, repeating the process several times until he was positive he had lost his mind. The room felt more like a jail cell than anything, and it brought a new wave of claustrophobia into his already tight chest.

Forcing himself up and out of bed as ringing erupted in his ears, James abandoned the high tech cell phone and instead settled for his pair of sunglasses; a seemingly last attempt at hiding his old form. Footsteps rapidly fell on the wood as he yanked his sneakers on with more force necessary, head aching and body throbbing from the new position. Snide remarks set for underneath his breath, James slowly yanked his way through the door, to the elevator, and watched the doors close before letting out one last sigh of relief.

Out in the lobby there were no more spaces to hide; he'd simply be exposed for who he truly was and would have to face the consequences.

A chill ran up James' spine as he stepped out of the elevator, hoodie strapped tightly around his torso as he made his way with quiet 'excuse me's. People turned and stared, burning past the dark film that kept his terrified eyes concealed. Shrugging his shoulders and keeping his head low, his hands grabbed at his hood before flipping it up and over, ignoring the blistering heat of California as he walked forward. Nobody around the pool seemed to notice him; the roaring sounds of a party greeted his ear drums from a mile away, and all he could do was give a weak smile anytime he even so much as glanced over. More and more people gathered around him, pushing him all different ways in their desperation to get to the party, and he gladly let them. A lone chair was his sole destination, target locked and focused.

Two more paces and he was hovering in front of it, trying to figure out if he should lay, sit, or even stay at all. The sun had slowly began its decent down in the sky, the moon wavering high above as he chewed at his lip anxiously. At least in the glow of the fire light he could be concealed, and he was out of the house like he had been instructed. Finally letting out a miniscule moan of displeasure that was lost in the thumping music, James sunk down into the plastic chair, legs straight in front of him as he stared into the night. Lights were already coming up over the pool, bringing the hotel to life as soft smile worked its way onto his face. Calm waves illuminated from the soft glows, causing his back to lean into the seat even more; it was almost enough to make him forget about the feelings building up inside.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Startled, James' leg slipped off the right side, nearly colliding with a black heeled boot as the girl chuckled. She observed him with a scrutinizing gaze, watching as his chocolate eyes swapped entirely too many emotions for her to completely comprehend, his fingers fumbling for his safety net. Spying the sun glasses on the ground, the girl reached down to get them, gingerly placing them back in James' trembling hands as his eyes grew impossibly wide. She let out a soft chuckle, holding her hand out. "You're not much of a talker, are you? I'm Jazz, and you are?"

James trembled for another moment, brain shutting down as his mouth gaped for words. The smile never left her face; it was simple and not a façade, something he hadn't grown used to in such a fast paced industry. It wavered slightly as her hand hung in midair, waiting for a companion that his wasn't sure it could give. Slowly shaking the dusty cobwebs from his mental filing cabinet, James managed a light smile as his shaking palm slid into hers, slowly moving up and down. "I'm James. Your name's really Jazz?"

The smile fell from her face for a moment, causing James to backtrack quickly and stumble over his own words. He was positive if he had been standing that he would've looked like a cartoon and probably would've ended up falling into the pool out of utter embarrassment. But the smile quickly fell back onto her features, a softer look that had his body tensing, the exposure of his inner thoughts painfully clear as she slowly pulled her palm out of his sweaty one. "My full name's Jazzaline, but I figured Jazz would just cover it."

James merely nodded, tongue tied and distracted as a bubble of laughter rose up from the pool. Slowly easing himself back into the chair as Jazz's own heeled boots took their spot, a comfortable silence eloped the two. Secret glances were stolen by the trembling boy, a dominant part of him wanting to run. She clearly had no idea who he was; he could just run for it and she wouldn't be able to bad mouth him. But she simply sat there, silence no enemy as she stared at the people having fun, eyes never glossing over in desperation to be with them.

Jazz had outcasted herself just like James, and it was that action alone that made him stay rooted to his spot, despite the nagging desperation to leave and hide himself. He had nothing to hide; she had already exposed him and saw him further exposed. His stomach twisted in disgust at the mere fact, and his knees pulled themselves up to his chest at the unwelcome thought.

Nobody knew James better than he did.


End file.
